


our gentle sin

by knowtheway



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: AU of an AU, Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon, Caligari spell mention, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Manipulation, Porn With Plot, Set in the imp universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29236233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knowtheway/pseuds/knowtheway
Summary: AU set in the imp universe with a married Spellwood and a few surprises.
Relationships: Faustus Blackwood/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 43
Kudos: 75





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked for a fic in the imp universe where Spellwood were married. Trying to make some layers with this as I think there was a lot of potential for character exploration in that episode that we didn’t really get. Below chapter is just an intro into the setting. More to come soon. Thanks for reading!

_“Make it so that I have always been Emperor.”_

His hand winds in her hair as he slams her back against the door. Her dress is already pooling at her feet and she’s absolutely breathless as she frantically scrabbles at the ornate buckle of his belt.

“Eager, dear?” he taunts, his voice low and rough as he nips at a sensitive spot of her throat.

With a gasp, she reaches up for the buttons of his shirt, nudging him forward with her shoulder and forcing his head back to look in his eyes. Her own eyes are black with lust he stares at her in fiery adoration, her lively fingers popping each button from its fasten with delight. “Eager to show gratitude to my Emperor, you mean? ... Aren’t I always?”

He breathes out a quiet, hungry laugh, quickly shouldering out of his shirt and reaching for her with renewed vigor. His lips crash to hers and he lifts her, her legs instantly wrapping around his waist as she moans into his mouth. A few fumbled steps later and he’s laid her on the bed, ripping at the last of her clothing and raining kisses down her neck and chest. 

“How I adore you, wife of mine,” he murmurs into her skin and she lets out a hum of bliss.

“How I worship you, dear Emperor of all.”

*****

When he wished on the imp for his perfect world, it had exceeded his expectations beyond measure. Not only had it understood and made him a most respected and feared leader, it also knew to rip his wife from her meddlesome family and place her devotedly by his side. Brother Ambrose was little more than the village mystic now, soon to be eliminated, and Sister Hilda was a lowly shop maid the imp had seen fit for Zelda not to even recognize.

The only stitch was Sabrina. Somehow, he knew the brat was out there, plotting and scheming on how to reverse his most perfect wish, but he would ensure she’d be(quite literally) stopped dead in her tracks at the first sign of her presence. The Dark Lord had turned his back on him, made the halfblood girl his herald of Hell, and so she would remain as such here - except now she would be surrounded by a sea God-fearing people with a bloodlust for witches. How sweet it would be when the flock who once resisted his will destroyed the nuisance responsible for his previous misfortunes. And the mortals he once sought to shepherd - now his loyal subjects as was always intended.

*****

Now sated, his wife curled against him as he idly strokes up and down her back, he smiles and lets out a relaxed sigh. This is their regular routine... has been for decades according to the memories the imp planted of this new reality, but somehow Faustus knows that even if that had always been true - a night of wooing dignitaries from neighboring countries (his future acquisitions, of course) followed by frenzied fucking with the same woman with whom he’d shared a bed for years - he’d still be just as pleased as he is now. There’s something particularly delightful about seeing a semblance of the Zelda he’s always known ( in this universe and the other) choosing him in this way. There’s no tug-of-war with other suitors, overbearing brothers, or willfully troublesome nieces... there’s no need for a spell to lock her away while he handles her family. She’s here, in his arms and at his side, because she wants to be. Nevermind that she doesn’t have any knowledge of old loved ones she might’ve chosen otherwise. In this world... his perfect world, she’s really his.

“You were magnificent tonight,” she says softly and he raises a teasing brow, glancing down at her with a smirk. She scoffs in response, even still as she settles in closer to him, “You know perfectly well that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” he teases again, craning his neck now to cast her a playfully questioning look.

She purses her lips through a barely-contained smile, a crinkle in her forehead appearing with an affectionate roll of her eyes - the sight of which feels as familiar as it does nostalgic. “Know I am always thrilled with your... _private_ performance, Emperor,” he laughs smugly, looking up to the ceiling as she continues, “But I rather mean your performance with the old-world leaders... They seemed so very impressed, as they should certainly.”

“Mm,” he agrees, curling his hand over her hip. “I should hope so. Once they’re usurped, they’re likely to remember the efficiency of the my governance. And know better than to attempt a coup.”

She lets out a hum of assent, her nails dragging lightly across his chest in lazy patterns, “Yes, my Emperor is so brilliant. How many witches did you capture today again?”

“Four,” he says proudly. “Joined by more tomorrow.”

She lifts herself up on her side, a look of concern crossing her face. “More?”

“My inquisitors have a lead on the gathering of an alleged Resistance.”

Her concern turns to surprise. “R-resistance?”

“Yes,” he says, “Some bookshop in town... Cerberus, the name was, I think. We’ve searched them before, but it seems we haven’t been thorough enough. Tomorrow that’ll change.”

She’s quiet for a moment and he starts to wonder if the memory of Hilda and who she was to her might be returning. He watches with some apprehension, waiting for the first wrinkle in his perfect world to fall from her lips, but then she whispers softly as if deep in thought, “To think there are so many amongst us... it’s unsettling.”

“Oh,” he chuckles, huffing in amusement. He raises himself up and reaches his hand to cup her cheek reassuringly. “Don’t worry, my darling,” he kisses her briefly, “I will have it handled and quickly. Trust in your Emperor, hm?”

She gives him a nod with a tentative smile and he kisses her once more, laying back down and beckoning her to him. Her head settles on his chest and his eyes close as he begins to drift away, letting the soft weight of his wife comfort him into sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for being here. There’s more backstory and setting below. If you’re here for porn, that happens next chapter, I promise. Upped the rating, as well, ‘cause it... it’s pretty depraved ngl. Anyway, hope you enjoy and as always, thanks for reading!

Across town in the morning dew, a boy knocks on the door of a florist shop, asking him for an order of a dozen pink geraniums - it’s his mother’s birthday and it’s very important because he wants to surprise her with her favorite flowers. The man smiles and though it’s well before opening hours, he genially welcomes him the boy in upon hearing his request.

Once inside, both their expressions of amiability drop and are replaced with tense concern. The boy produces a letter as they head to the back of the store and the man begins reading even as feet continue to lead him down the hallway.

He stops suddenly with a gasp and turns to look at the boy in pure terror. “God in heaven, we must act quickly,” he says hushed, looking around them with a paranoid desperation, ensuring they haven’t been seen or heard. Closing the supply room door behind them and locking it, the boy is already heading where he knows they need to go. They reach the back corner of the room, the man and boy grunting as they maneuver a heavy bag of top soil aside which reveals a hidden latch in the floor.

They knock once, twice - wait two beats - and knock threefourfive in quick succession. The latch opens and a brunette woman’s face greets them with nervous expectation.

The man nods, affirming her fears, and hands her the letter.

“They’re coming.”

*****

She takes a moment to admire herself in the mirror – one doesn’t get where she is by ignoring her appearance – and not a hair is out of place, just as is expected of her. Being the bastard child-turned-lieutenant of the emperor’s army doesn’t afford her the opportunity for many mistakes. Granted, it took her until she was 17 to be acknowledged as such, though somewhere inside she always knew the truth. No other orphan child was favored like she was – always receiving the best accommodations, often being exempt from disciplinary drills… she sees the way he cared for her, even if it wasn’t everything she wanted at the time. And she supposes she can’t blame him, Lord knows how far her father would have gotten in his ambitious pursuits with a cloud of sin hanging over him.

Once she finally put two and two together and unveiled the truth, he was already emperor – and as such, no one would dare question or critique his past transgressions. A bastard child was a lesson he learned, that was all, and how benevolent of him to have taken her in and to have watched over her – how brave of him to come forward and claim her in public. Prudence was no longer a symbol of his failures, but rather his success and if that meant she got to share even a piece of it along with him… well, in a world where she’d otherwise be starving on the street, that’s really all that really mattered.

Heading downstairs, she begins mentally preparing for an unpleasant, yet necessary conversation. She turns into the dining room just in time to see the end of her stepmother’s mid-morning delegations to the servant staff and waits patiently in the doorway until they’re dismissed. She watches with admiration at how regally she holds herself in front of others, because she also knows it’s a very well-practiced act. Lady Blackwood is the epitome of an aristocratic wife – well-spoken, well-mannered, elegant, and beautiful… at times, Prudence also thinks of her as warm and understanding, but there is equally a little too much mystery brimming under the surface for comfort. Prudence understands the need for facades and is quite grateful that Lady Blackwood came into her life when she very desperately needed to learn such things. Zelda taught her the ways of coercion, cunning, and not-too-deceitful deceit – tools any young woman needed to survive. But such an eager student was she, and so good at implementing her lessons, she found that as she grew, she and Lady Blackwood began to possess an ever-increasing respect and mistrust for each other. It didn’t help that they shared a secret which, if revealed, would see them both hanged within a day.

She had known that Emperor and Lady Blackwood tried to conceive for many years with no success. She never asked why, but her stepmother’s sudden spells of silence and melancholy helped her put the pieces together. Therefore, when a pair of babies appeared on the palace doorsteps one November night, it was as if it were a gift from God himself. Except it wasn’t divine intervention that brought her siblings to them… they had been born of a witch. Combined with Zelda’s time as a midwife prior to her rise in the ranks, the pregnant woman had beckoned her to take pity – for she would denounce Satan and give herself over to God before she saw her children hurt.

Perhaps it was because the witch put a spell on her, or perhaps it was simply because she knew what it was to lose a child, but Zelda had agreed to secrecy. On the night of her labor, a then-14 year-old Prudence, who took her role as companion to Lady Blackwood very seriously, followed her in the night to the witch’s residence. She had been discovered shortly thereafter, as the woman began to lose blood when the first babe was delivered, screaming into the night. Zelda allowed no time to ask for her mercy, she only demanded Prudence’s help. A fact Prudence would remember with equal parts confusion and awe.

From there, it was a blur and before even an hour had passed, two babes lay sleeping in bundled blankets while their mother perished on the table beside them. Prudence wasn’t sure how to feel or what to think, but when one of the babies began to cry, she saw how quickly it quieted in Zelda’s arms and how fondly she looked at the poor creature. In that moment, they shared an understanding that Prudence still struggles to name. All she knew was that a part of her, no matter how small and under- nurtured, felt compelled to protect what only she and Zelda now knew.

It was only later that Prudence realized the danger of it and the silent understanding that, if she wanted to, she could destroy Lady Blackwood and vice versa at any time. So now, a decade and some change after, they find themselves in the strictest of times thus far for apprehending witches, all the while harboring two under their very own roof.

It’s not that she dislikes her or even resents her – quite the opposite, in fact. It’s just that she knows if push came to shove, self-preservation would be key. It’s one of the things she learned from her. And far it be from her to ignore such a lesson, no matter what or who it concerned.

“Lieutenant,” Zelda says with a tone of surprise, her mouth tensing as she eyes Prudence quizzically.

“Good morning, Mother,” she answers quietly.

Zelda’s brows raise and she nods, “So I’m mother again, am I?”

Prudence clasps her hands in front of her and rocks on her feet a bit while Zelda reaches for her cigarette tin. “I came to apologize.”

“Did you?” she says, blowing out her first puff of smoke. “I can’t imagine what for.”

“For my outburst, clearly,” Prudence says with some trepidation. Two nights ago, Prudence had learned some most distressing news about a suitor of hers and when she returned home that evening, a path of destruction was all but imminent. It just so happened that Zelda was the first, unfortunate person in her wake. _“_ _You are not my mother, you are my father’s wife!”_ she had said and instantly regretted it. If anyone had ever been a parent to Prudence, it would have been her, but her emotions had taken over all sense of reason.

“You said nothing untrue,” Zelda says plainly and clicks her tin closed, placing it into a nearby drawer.

“But it was unwarranted,” Prudence replies, her voice still timid. “I am sorry.”

Zelda considers her for a moment and still looks unconvinced. “Prudence, you know that if I wanted to compromise you in any way, I would have by now, yes?”

Prudence blinks, biting her lip, and clenching her fist. Of course part of the reason she’s apologizing is to ensure her safety – she’d like to believe it’s the larger part – but she also does not like carrying a sense of guilt. It’s highly inconvenient. “Mo-… Lady Blackwood, I am always grateful for your grace, but I truly seek to mend any bond I may have broken.”

Zelda’s eye narrow and she takes another drag of her cigarette, exhaling with a sigh. “Very well. I accept your apology. What kind of mother would I be to not forgive her child?”

Prudence looks up with a tentative smile too see the same reflected on Zelda’s face. “Thank you, Mother,” she says warmly.

“Mmm,” she nods with a warm smirk, “Now hurry along to the academy. The first lieutenant should never be late.”

She bows lightly with a smile and turns on her heel to depart, but at the same moment, the front door bursts open, followed by the shouting of a thoroughly displeased emperor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ruh-roh. What he so angry for? Perhaps we will find out soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only gets more questionable from here forward, lads. Kink below!

She stands dutifully next to her husband as he sits at his desk, staring menacingly at two visibly anxious cadets in front of him.

After sharing a knowing look, she had told her stepdaughter to exit from the back door ( _“Whatever has your father upset will be made worse if he sees you not at the academy, where you should already be”_ ) and set quick into motion everything she knew from experience would calm him in such a state – a glass of liquor, an extra spritz of her perfume, and a once-over look at herself in the mirror to ensure not a single curl was out of place (though it rarely ever was).

As she looks over the two young men no older than 21, the tension in the room is beyond palpable, and she folds her hands together delicately to stop them from trembling. Whatever they were about to be reprimanded for was surely going to have been beyond their control – children bearing such high-stake responsibilities never sat right with her, but her husband had built an entire empire on the indoctrination of young souls and it was demonstrably flourishing, so it must be that he must knew best.

“Tell me how it is that I send a squad of my best soldiers into a confirmed resistance hold and they come back with nothing to show for it,” Faustus says in hushed voice.

Both cadets squirm slightly and swallow the lumps in their throats, trying to silently determine who should speak first.

“Speak up!” the emperor barks and the one on her right flinches.

“It was empty when we arrived, Emperor,” he says quickly. “They must have been tipped off.”

“By whom?” he demands. “The only ones aware of the operation were your squadron.”

“W-we don’t know, sir,” the other chimes in and the nerves in Zelda’s stomach begin to flutter faster for them both.

“Perhaps one of you?” he suggests and both cadets immediately descend into desperate pleas, defending themselves, but he just as quickly waves them into silence. “I won’t have traitors in my midst. If it means making an example of even  potential defectors, then so be it.”

It takes no time at all for the understanding to sink in. ‘Examples’ were often left displayed in the town center, a warning to any who might consider causing unrest. As such, the two young men begin to turn pale, sweat forming on their brows, and Zelda senses that one of them may attempt to speak and make it worse, so she does it for them.

“Emperor,” she says softly, stepping in closer to her husband as she watches his clenched jaw soften slightly, “Might I suggest a course of action? ... One that would allow you to find the traitor without sacrificing your ‘best men’, as you pointed out?”

He half-turns his head toward her, eyes narrowing in consideration, and he nods slightly to allow her to continue.

“The Inquisitor has done rather well in finding any disgraceful opposition to the empire… “ she keeps her voice low even as she pivots slowly next to his chair, back turning towards the cadets, and her hands resting on the edge of his desk, “Would a true test of loyalty not be for him to pay a visit to your troops unannounced? Where anything that may otherwise have been hidden is left carelessly out in the open?”

Faustus purses his lips in concentration and while she knows he sees the logic in it, sometimes that isn’t enough, so batting here lashes and smiling sweetly, she lowers her voice to a whisper, “I’d hate for the day before your birthday to be such a burden for you, husband.”

His mouth twitches slightly and she sees the spark behind his eye ignite, just as she intended, and - not breaking their gaze - she carefully pushes herself up so that she’s sat atop his desk, her legs crossed and her dress riding up just so.

“That’s well-reasoned, darling,” he murmurs, his hand coming up to rest on her knee as a tug of desire washes over her. Letting his thumb idly stroke her thigh, he takes a deep breath with a resolved smirk and addresses the guards at his door. “Take Cadet Smith and Cadet Jenkins to the south wing and make sure a set of eyes stays on them. And inform The Inquisitor that his services are required at once.”

“Yes, emperor,” they all say in unison, and she makes a show of reaching across his desk for her lighter, cigarette held between her teeth. “And boys,” he says, the two cadets straightening to attention once again, “You should thank Lady Blackwood for saving your skins. For now, that is.

She gives him a smirk, letting the tip of her foot slowly stroke up the back of his calf, and she takes a seductively long drag of her cigarette.

“Thank you, Lady Blackwood,” they say with slightly bowed heads.

She gives a small acknowledging hum and casts them a smile over her shoulder, nodding before turning her gaze back to her husband.

“You’re dismissed,” he says plainly, not looking away from her and they bellow a dedicated “Praise Blackwood!” before exiting and shutting the door behind them.

Once they’re gone, his hand immediately wanders further up her thigh and she chuckles out a billow of smoke. “Did I distract you, emperor?”

“I believe you already know the answer to that, dearest,” he’s already practically purring and when he smooths his hand back down her thigh, he grabs her wrist on the way. Her breath catches in her throat for a half a second, but then he gently and slowly kisses the back of her hand, staring up at her, “Not that I mind at all.”

She exhales a small laugh, stubbing out the last of her cigarette as he fans out her fingers and nips lightly at each digit, humming against her skin, “Though I do wish you wouldn’t coddle my cadets.”

She huffs softly, “They’re only boys, Faustus.”

“They’re boys for as long as you treat them as such,” he counters sternly, though simultaneously tugging her up and onto his lap, “To wear a uniform means they are to be treated as men.”

“Mm?” she raises her brow, hooking her arms around his neck and kissing him quickly. “I remember a boy who was once their age not being so opposed to my affections.”

“That was rather different, my dear, and you know it,” he murmurs into hair, mouth trailing behind her ear and down her neck.

“Well, at any rate... I take it no witches were found at the bookstore?” she fidgets with his collar as he continues to work his way across her jaw.

“Mmph,” he mutters, “Not a trace of anyone besides the shop owner and his meek little wife.”

“That’s a relief,” she says and he pulls back to look at her.

“Their basement was suspiciously spotless, though,” he tells her, eyes falling to her lips, “Almost as if they were attempting to hide evidence of others being there.”

“Hm,” she responds, leaning in to kiss him again, “Then have they been apprehended?”

He sighs even as his hand reaches up to fluff her hair, “No, I rather that they believe they’re safe from inspection again... let them lure the filth back into their arms so that I can catch them red-handed instead.”

She smiles at him mischievously, “How clever my husband is. Did it disappoint you not to catch them today?”

He hums out a chuckle, sliding his hands down her waist and squeezing lightly, “There is little joy greater than vanquishing evil with your own hands.”

“My poor emperor,” she pouts, “Is there anything a wife can do to make it better?”

He takes a deep breath with a smirk, eyes smoldering as he reaches up and glides his fingers over the beads of her layered necklaces, “What would a wife have in mind?”

“Well,” she shrugs, gingerly raising herself up and taking delight in the way his brows knit together in confusion, “If you wish to punish a naughty witch,” slowly she kneels between his legs and sees the hunger in his gaze begin to grow, “perhaps there could be one here now,” she hooks a hand over his knee and rests her cheek atop it, titling her head up to look at him in wide-eyed innocence, “on her knees and begging for your forgiveness... in whatever way you see fit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the sex is almost done. If you’re still here a month since my last update, thank you, I love you, and I appreciate your patience. It is truly a goal to have the full filth up by tomorrow. I will try my best! Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being patient with me. I promised you sex and it is here. Hopefully, it has been worth the wait. xx
> 
> P.S. Full warning - there’s religious references in here that would have the 14th century Vatican burning me at the stake for heresy, so... while I assume fans of this show aren’t theologically sensitive, just want to put it out there. This is filth. K, cool, thanks.
> 
> Trigger warning for implied miscarriage, rough sex, and shame/praise kink.

Much had been different when they were young - he had been quiet and studious and his desire for greatness seemed only to be matched by his desire for her. He enticed her, challenged her, consumed her. And in turn, she consumed him back. They were pure hunger and fire, burning fiercely into embers and floating reverently upwards as two threads of smoke, twirling into and around each other in an elegant dance of ascent. He brought her flowers, wrote her letters, and laid listening to her read for hours with his head laid in her lap. He looked at her softly and fondly, and even just hearing his name made her heart flutter and her cheeks go warm. She felt so special, so cherished, and she was sure she would never love anyone else so deeply.

But the war changed him. Changed them both. He went to battle while she tended to the wounded. She saw families ripped apart, daughters and sons turned into orphans, husbands and wives turned into widows. Faustus never shared what he’d seen on the frontlines, but once he returned home, a part of her felt widowed, too. Gone was the warmth in his gaze, the gentleness in his voice... he was a soldier first, husband second, and eradicating the enemy would be his top priority from then on. Episodes of mania surrounding hunts would violently crash into bouts of anger and self-loathing any time they failed to seize their targets. She had hoped starting a family would return the lost parts of him back to her, but every month that passed... she wasn’t... and the three times she was, it didn’t... even though she tried so hard, she just... well, a baby never made it into her arms. 

He never blamed her, instead declaring it a sign from God that his mission was righteous, blessed, and most importantly - unfinished. For if the Lord refused them a child, it must be because there were still servants of Satan stealing babies at every opportunity and it was his duty to rid the Earth of them in the name of God’s kingdom. There were times she wanted to believe it, too... that it wasn’t her fault, but when a 10 year-old Prudence came into their lives, it became hard to think otherwise. She had always known the girl was his - she wonders how obvious it had been to others, too - and if God had seen fit to bless her husband alone, the problem simply had to be her.

So over time she slowly began to understand his anger and the desire to punish himself. How on earth could one be happy when they repeatedly failed at the one thing they wanted most? It was agony - unforgiving, persistent agony that built until it all but demanded to be unleashed in a howling fury. So they unleashed it on each other, took their mutual punishments into the bedroom and ignited a new hunger and fire they could dance in together again. It would never be as it once was, but they found a way to fulfill each other’s needs, found a way to be close... and no matter how far they plummeted into darkness, no matter how frightening his ascent to emperor became, knowing she wasn’t alone in it was enough. It had to be.

These days, she still craves the punishment, but her husband no longer knows what for. She supposes he must think it’s just too familiar to abandon now, and perhaps it is, but if he knew the truth there would be no force in the world that could save her. And somewhere inside, a part of her craves that, too.

“Do you wish to confess something to your emperor?” he says low, stroking a finger over her jaw, “Have you been hiding something from me, my sweet?”

Still on her knees, she leans her face into his touch, his thumb gliding over her bottom lip as he stares down at her casually. “What could I possibly hide from you, your excellency?”

She’s not sure why that particular honorific always seems to affect him so, but his eyes instantly turn fiery and his mouth twitches so that she knows she need only push a little further for him to explode. Without thinking, her thighs rub together at the thought and she makes the mistake of letting a small smile form on her lips. That flips the switch and he quickly darts forward, curling his hand around her throat in one swift movement. She gasps as he forces her face upward, leaning down until he’s dangerously close, “Might I inquire as to what you find so amusing, madam?”

His voice is barely a whisper, but it’s menacing enough to send a shiver down her spine. “Nothing at all, emperor,” she says with feigned sweetness, “No matter how much of a farce the implication here may be.”

“You stand accused of witchcraft and a number of other vile machinations with the devil, miss,” he pulls her face closer to his and she physically feels her eyes go glassy, feels all her muscles melt into his touch. “So I would mind your mouth if I were you.”

His lips are so close to hers that the warmth of his breath glides over her skin and she feels the slight tremble in his hand that always precedes him exploding into a storm of feral need... ruining her, wrecking her. She can’t wait.

“Forgive me,” she whispers softly and his grip tightens, hot desire radiating from every inch of his body as it pools warmly into hers, “Or perhaps,” she leans in, “You can mind it for me.”

With a soft “mmm,” he claims her mouth in a hungry kiss, his tongue sliding over hers, and she feels her cunt, already slick, begin to clench. Her husband has no idea how tightly wound she’s been recently and can therefore not understand how badly she needs this. That their nightly displays of sensual passion with sweetly murmured affections simply can’t reach this particular itch - the one where she’s knowingly deceiving her husband and desperately craving absolution from the guilt, however justified she may feel in it. Let him mark her, claim her... let him devour her in a thunderous eruption of anger and need. Let her feel a semblance of the wrath she’d endure if he really knew. She needs it. 

He breaks their kiss and she looks up at him, breathless, but not an ounce of sympathy in his gaze. “Are you working your devil’s magic now, witch? Seducing a God-fearing man with your wickedness?” he says through gritted teeth, raising her up just a bit further by her throat. Her hand comes up to wrap defensively around his wrist and she whimpers softly - she knows he likes it when she struggles (the pulse in her cunt indicates that maybe she likes it, too). Her lipstick is smeared over his face and his eyes are practically eating her alive. If this is the devil’s work, maybe she’s a fan after all.

“Have I excited you, emperor?” she says coyly, voice strained, and her free hand begins traveling up his thigh towards the growing bulge in his trousers. “Is this wicked?” she lets her palm rub gently up and down his hardened length, “Is this a sin?”

He groans softly, letting his eyes close briefly, and then slides the hand on her throat up into her hair, “A good Christian woman would already know the answer to that.”

“Would she?” she raises herself up on her knees, hands pressed flat on his belly, and he lets his arms fall against the limbs of his chair, watching her intently. “Don’t good Christian women spend a lot of time on their knees? Praying to their most holy God? Worshipping him? Pleasing him? He likes a woman on her knees, doesn’t He?”

Her fingers have found their way to his belt and he’s looking at her with such intensity that it’s almost frightening. But only almost. When she finishes undoing the zip, he captures her hand with his and she gasps as he tilts her chin up with his other, “Show me how you worship then, woman. Show me how you use that sweet little mouth to honor our Lord.”

The sigh she lets out is rich with lust, the corner of her mouth turned up into a smirk, and she slowly guides his cock from his trousers, softly squeezing as it strains into attention. Bending her head, she gives him one last sultry look, watching his jaw clench in anticipation, “Your command is my wish, emperor,” and then darts her tongue out to lick up the entire length of him. His thighs immediately tense and he barely suppresses the groan behind his closed mouth as his eyes fall shut. Swirling her tongue over the head, she grips the base of him, slowly stretching her mouth open and taking him in all. He grunts softly as she pulls back, his hands threading through her hair and when she feels him lightly tug, she can’t stop a small moan from escaping her lips. 

“Like that, do you?” he says through deep breaths and she nods with a soft whimper, sliding her lips back down again. “Of course you do, you depraved little slut.”

To prove his point, she begins doubling her efforts, pumping her hand over his shaft and vigorously bobbing her head in a near perfect rhythm. A slew of profanity falls from his lips in, a symphony of muttered sighs, and the pride she feels is so incredibly delicious that she lets out a soft whine, looking up at him pleadingly as she tongues his swollen head. She can tell he’s close and she wants nothing more right now than for him to come down her throat, but the mischief in his eyes tells her he’s not yet done playing their naughty little game. 

“That’s it, darling. What a good little whore,” he rasps out, breath labored. “No denying you’re in Satan’s harem when it’s plain to see how much you love choking on cock,” on the last word, he thrusts up into her mouth until he hits the back of her throat. She splutters and coughs, her hand gripping his knee to support herself as an electric buzz shoots down her spine and a flood of wetness soaks the lace of her under garments. 

Roughly, he yanks her head back, his cock slipping from her lips in a messy motion that makes her gasp wildly for air. The jolt of it disorients her for a moment, but then his face is hovering over hers and the fire in his eyes is so intense that she couldn’t move a muscle even if she wanted to. “Isn’t that right?” he says dangerously low, “You love this, don’t you? Being your emperor’s whore?”

She starts to squeak out an answer, but his hand suddenly grips at the neckline of her dress, ripping the delicate fabric open with one forceful tug until her breasts have spilled out into the open air. She gasps from the shock of it along with the sudden chill against her exposed skin, but then she feels the warmth of his palm as he cups one of her tits and squeezes softly. 

“Hm?” he prompts her almost casually, her head still pulled back by her hair as he rolls one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger and she whimpers helplessly. “Don’t you, sweetheart?”

Taking a shuddering breath, she nods as best she can, chest heaving. “Yes, emperor.”

He laughs sardonically, pulling her towards him and kissing her hungrily, “I should throw you back to Satan, slut,” he murmurs against her lips, “but maybe I can find a use for you... Such a pretty thing to waste. Do you want to be my pretty thing?”

“Yes,” she whispers desperately, nodding, “Yes, please.” He kisses her again and she starts to feel light-headed from kneeling for so long. Sensing it, he slips an arm around her waist and pulls her back up into his lap in one fluid motion. She sighs gratefully, resting her hands on his shoulders and brushing her nose lightly against his.

“Please help me emperor,” she says quietly, but with a desperation she herself could almost think was genuine. “Please save me.”

“Shh,” he soothes, mouth pressing to her neck as he grasps her hips. “Of course I can help you,” he says, trailing kisses across her bare chest “Help you to be good. Would you like that?”

“Yes - oh!” she gasps softly as his mouth fastens around her nipple, her hand instinctively sliding up the back of his head and burying it into his hair. “I want to be your good girl, please.”

It’s somewhat amazing how quickly he makes the tides turn and while she’s perfectly aware that the role of a helpless sinner entirely at his mercy is the quickest way to stroke her husband’s ego, she maybe thinks she shouldn’t enjoy playing it so much.

“You poor, lost little thing,” he coos, sliding his tongue out over her other pert nipple, “I can take such good care of you, you know.”

“I do,” she moans, feeling his hardened length press against her thigh and fighting the urge to rub herself against it. Good girls aren’t greedy little sluts like that, good girls know how to be patient. “Will you take care of me, emperor? I’ll be so grateful, I promise I’ll do anything for you.”

He rests his forehead on her sternum, going quiet, and she feels every muscle in his body tense. “Promise to obey me, then,” he says as he begins guiding her hips over his, his cock rubbing against her pussy through the sodden fabric of her underwear.

Her voice is a shaking mess, but she manages to get out a quiet “I promise,” as he raises his head to look into her eyes. 

“Respect me,” he murmurs, pressing up against her harder, “Submit to me.”

Her eyes suddenly feel warm with tears as he scans her face, but fuck it feels so good... so familiar and sad for some reason ( _why does it feel so familiar?_ ), but so good. Her clit is throbbing and every nerve in her body is wrung so tight... she’ll promise whatever he wants as long he fucks her soon.

“And exalt me for all eternity,” his voice is barely a whisper and her lips quiver as waves of intense and confusing emotion crash through her, “Can you do that for me, Zelda? Will you?”

Her eyes flutter closed as she feels his lips brush against hers and when she opens them again, the piercing blue gaze of the boy she once knew greets her and a warm tear falls down her cheek. “I will,” she says and in that moment, she thinks she truly means it.

He sighs in what sounds peculiarly like relief, smiling softly before capturing her lips in a tender kiss. “My good girl,” he marvels, squeezing her into him tighter and deepening their kiss. She lets out a small noise of gratitude and dares to curl her hands around the back his neck topull him closer. Suddenly, she feels his fingers hook in her panties, knuckles brushing against her sensitive clit as he pulls the fabric aside. She just barely has time to register his cock at her entrance before he slips inside her with one swift thrust and they both let out entirely undignified and unrestrained groans. 

“There now,” he says encouragingly as she adjusts to the feel of him, though it’s plain to see he’s riding the edge as much as she is, “Isn’t that nice, darling?”

She nods frantically, eyes closed tight as she savors the feeling of being filled, “Yes, your excellency. So nice.”

“I’m so proud of you, precious,” he says and she feels the tears begin to well again, “So proud that you’re mine.”

Burying her face in his neck, her hips start to move as he continues whispering affections into her ear and if she still believed God existed, she imagines a piece of heaven would feel somewhat like this. His praise washes over her like an afternoon storm and she rolls her hips faster to the sound of his voice, whimpering against his shoulder with each breath. Her nails are already digging into his chest when he places one firm hand at the small of her back to steady her as the other dips to where they’re joined and begins stroking her clit. She practically screams, head thrown back and thighs shaking as he applies a bit more pressure with every roll of her hips. Her release builds tight in her belly, her cunt clenching him so hard that it hurts, but she can’t stop... she’s so close and her husband is roughly whispering to her, “Come on, darling... come undone for me, baby... that’s it, good girl... oh so good for me, that’s it.” With a few more tight movements of his wrist, she claps a hand over his shoulder and cries out, every muscle frozen in ecstasy as she comes. She can barely breathe for a moment, suspended in euphoric release, and feels him thrust up into her gently to help her ride it out.

When she comes down from it, he’s softly stroking her hair, kissing her face, and she feels his cock twitch inside her as she trembles through the aftershocks. Resting her forehead against his, they spend a few moments staring silently at each other, save for their heavy breathing, as he waits for her to recover. Once she does, her fingertips glide featherlight up his forearms and she leans her chest into his, pressing her mouth to his in an assenting kiss.

He wastes no time in seizing her waist, lifting her and setting her on the edge of his desk. He pulls out of her just long enough so that she can angle her hips and he can divest her of her (incontrovertibly ruined) lace panties. That intense gaze returns to his face as he reaches for her, maneuvering her like a rag doll, roughly spreading her thighs and lifting one of her legs over his shoulder.

She gets a single breath in before he’s buried inside her again, her eyes fluttering closed as he sets a brutal rhythm. The desk is scooting loudly against the floor and her hands brace on the edge of the desk, her high-pitched moans accompanying every thrust. He starts to grunt loudly, his grip on her tightening, and she knows he’s close.

“Zelda... fuck,” he mutters, his thrusts becoming erratic as his hips start to go rigid.

“Inside me,” she says suddenly, and his eyes snap open to look down at her as he rides the very brink of his release, “Come inside me, husband, please.”

With a growl, he grabs the back of her neck, forcing her up into a harsh kiss, slamming his hips forward, and frantically chanting her name as he reaches his release. She shudders as he fills her up, the warmth of it spreading inside her as her legs strains painfully against the weight of his chest and shoulder. With a few more sharp thrusts, she feels him finish and sighs blissfully when he relaxes his hold. Her legs slide down to lay languidly atop the desk and her body goes slack. The adrenaline quickly fading, she starts to feel a bit faint and softly calls his name.

He’s still holding her neck, but he quickly wraps his other arm behind her back, lifting her up and slipping out of her as he hugs her close into his chest.

“Oh, darling,” he sighs fondly, stroking her back.

“Have I pleased my emperor?” she asks with a weak smile and the vibration of the chuckle he lets out is as pleasant as the soft kiss he lays against her temple.

“Very much, my love,” he replies, holding her tight, “Very much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best work by far, but I hope someone out there liked it. 😅 Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Aw, how sweet. Would be a shame to see a wrench thrown into the great emperor’s plans, wouldn’t it? Hmmmm.
> 
> Thanks again for reading! Love to your mum, bye! :)


End file.
